


Don't Judge A Book And All That Rot

by Ohnonnynonny



Series: Being Productive By Way Of Not Being Productive [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: AU, Competition, Crack, Gen, M/M, Modern AU, Sexual Tension, implied get together, meet cute, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 09:22:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6605419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohnonnynonny/pseuds/Ohnonnynonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Arthur is a bit competitive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Judge A Book And All That Rot

**Author's Note:**

> So, this may be one of my more incredibly stupid ficlets. Yeah, I don't really know where this shite came from. It is yet another prompt from here [x](http://stevebuqy.tumblr.com/post/116497857074/another-list-of-my-actual-university-experiences) but I got super carried away so that prompt only has a small part in this. Yeah. Not beta'd in anyway. All mistakes are my own. I'm too tired to proofread again, so apologizing in advance for whatever mistakes/typos there are!
> 
> This story is authorized for AO3 only. It is not to be copied or used elsewhere without my explicit written permission.
> 
> I don't own the characters to Merlin(TV) and am not profiting from this work. Enjoy!

To say that Arthur Pendragon had a competitive streak a mile wide would be an understatement. Ever since he was born, he was always in some sort of competition. He’d finish his bottle faster than Morgana, puke harder than her, and even cry louder than her—he’d never admit to being the weaker baby, only the "better at everything" baby. 

After a while, no one dared challenge him in anything. Not even in silly games because Arthur took everything way too seriously. 

Only from time to time would his friends ever indulge him in competition. What Arthur didn’t know was that they never took him seriously anymore. If they did, and by some chance won, Arthur would be relentless in asking for a rematch. It was better to just have their own fun while Arthur could take the joy of winning with him. 

When Arthur figured that out, he didn’t pout for a week—of course he did. 

At one point, it got so bad that Morgana had dragged him out to a CCA meeting. Compulsive Competitors Anonymous. That crashed and burned terrifically as Arthur tried to have the best story to share, which got all the other people in the meeting riled up. As a result, Morgana had dragged Arthur out before he could do any more damage. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of it?” shouted an exasperated Morgana. 

“Do I ever get tired of winning? Of course not!” Arthur said with a manic smile. 

“One day, this problem of yours will come and bite you in the arse, Arthur,” retorted Morgana, “now get in the fucking car.”

Things started getting a little better when their old family physician started seeing Arthur for weekly meetings. Morgana all but forced him to and he relented because even he could acknowledge that his competitive streak was maybe a bit problematic. 

After several months, Arthur was improving. He no longer outright challenged anybody anymore, but he did hold secret little competitions in his own head. Morgana wondered if it really was an improvement or if it was Arthur trying to win the title for quickest recovery. She rolled her eyes and let out a sigh. At least he was getting help. 

Now that Arthur was improving, he was more fun to be around. Arthur seemed to be like everyone else, for the most part. He’d only mope and sulk if he lost something spectacularly, which was a rare feat in itself anyway. 

A few weeks later, Arthur hit a relapse and got kicked out of his gym for being too competitive. 

Morgana was sick of Arthur complaining about having to drive further for another gym when Morgana had a brilliant idea. 

“Arthur, why don’t you just join my gym?” asked Morgana. 

“Because you said I wasn’t allowed to on pain of death,” said Arthur, slowly, confused at why Morgana was offering. 

“Maybe I was a bit harsh,” said Morgana with a nonchalant shrug. “As long as you don’t join my spin class, or my yoga class, or my kickboxing class, I’m fine with it.”

“Just those classes?” Arthur asked with an eyebrow raise. 

“Yep. And my zumba class,” said Morgana. 

“Deal,” said Arthur, mood brightening. 

The next week, Arthur was happy to call himself a member of Gorlois’ Gym. He worked out a schedule of what to do everyday and happily got to it. When it hit Cardio Saturday, Arthur found himself setting up at only available treadmill. He was next to a lean bloke with raven hair and pale skin. Glancing at his machine, he could see the digital numbers at the two minute mark. _So the bloke had just started_. 

Before he could even think about it, he set his machine to the same as the bloke’s next to his and ran that for about five minutes before raising the speed a couple levels higher. After about another five minutes, he saw the bloke—dubbed Skinny—raise his speed to exactly one level higher than Arthur’s. 

Arthur couldn’t take that as anything but a silent challenge. An invisible gauntlet thrown at his feet by some idiotic weakling. After waiting another five minutes, Arthur raised the level once more. 

Another five minutes passed and Skinny raised his level by two. Arthur may or may not have scoffed a little too loudly, alerting Skinny to his intentions and then raised his level by two. 

Arthur could see through his peripheral vision, that Skinny was giving him a weird look. Since Skinny didn’t raise his levels, Arthur presumed that he won and let out what Leon dubbed as his smug “I’m totally better than you” huff. 

His “victory” was short lived, when not a minute after, Skinny rose the speed level by three. And so the pattern went until the two of them were basically sprinting on their treadmills. So engrossed was he that he didn’t realize that they had a little audience. After another ten minutes, both of them were on the fastest level that the treadmill offered. Arthur didn’t think he ever reached this speed before. 

However, he wasn’t discouraged because Arthur was the top in his track and field team, as well as very athletic indeed. Although, after another fifteen minutes, Arthur was beginning to get tired. He snuck a peek at Skinny and saw the man looking straight ahead, hardly breaking a sweat. 

Arthur clicked his tongue to show his disapproval. Upon hearing that, Skinny turned to face him. So mesmerized was Arthur by Skinny’s blue eyes, that he missed a step and went flying off the treadmill. 

Arthur came to after what he felt was someone kissing him. Opening his eyes, it was to meet the sweet baby blues of Skinny’s eyes. 

“Oh, thank fuck. Are you alright, mate?” asked Skinny. 

“Were you kissing me?” asked Arthur, confused. 

“No, you prat, I was doing CPR. You flew off the treadmill and crashed into the wall,” said Skinny, biting his lower lip, trying not to laugh. 

“I, what?” asked Arthur, a bit mesmerized by his lips until their little marathon competition came into mind. 

“All this for a little competition,” said Skinny, shaking his head. “Now, do you know your name? I need to make sure you aren’t concussed.”

“Arthur Pendragon,” answered Arthur. 

“Morgana’s brother?” asked Skinny. “I should’ve known. Speak of the devil.”

“What happened here?” asked Morgana, using the towel around her neck to dab the sweat from her brow.”

“Nothing,” Arthur said at once. 

“I’m kidding. I’ve got the whole thing filmed,” Morgana said with such glee, pointing at her phone. 

“Wh-what? Did you plan this??” asked Arthur, a bit incredulous. 

“No, but I figured it would happen sooner or later,” smirked Morgana. “Brother mine, I’d like you to meet Merlin Emrys, five time gold-medalist Olympic champion for track and field, and a dear friend.”

Merlin blushed a little, but otherwise had a brilliant smile. 

“For what it’s worth, you put up a valiant effort,” said Merlin, offering his hand to Arthur. 

“At least I can walk away knowing that I’m better at one thing,” said Arthur, taking Merlin’s hand to stand up. 

“And what might that be?” asked Merlin. 

“I’m definitely the better kisser,” Arthur smirked. 

“Hey-That wasn’t-I was not kissing you!” Merlin complained. 

“I’ll be a benevolent competitor and offer you a rematch,” said Arthur with a wink. 

“For fuck’s sake,” said Morgana with a great, long-suffering sigh. She then turned around, leaving the boys to resolve their own sexual tension, and headed for the steam room. 

  
  


 

End.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was born because I have a small case of writer's block for Rota Fortunae. Fret not, I should be able to have an update for that this week!


End file.
